PreacherMike

Note to non-baseball-loving blog readers. I’ll get back to you in a few days. Others read on . . . .

Adios to the Red Sox. Babe, Bucky, Buckner — and now Boone (as in the Yankees’ 11th inning home run last night to send them instead of the Sox to the World Series). Fighting history is like fighting the tide.

By the time the Cardinals returned to the World Series in October, 1967, I was in 6th grade. I guess that means my brother would have been a first grader. My sisters would have been 4 and 1.

1967 was the year of the Super Bowl before it had Roman numerals attached to it! In the first ever Super Bowl, Green Bay defeated Kansas City. Also in ‘67 . . . Mohammad Ali was stripped of his title for draft evasion. Elvis married Priscilla. Christiaan Barnard conducted the first human heart transplant. The big hits at Neosho’s Intermediate School were “Windy,” “I’m a Believer,” and “Come on Down to My Boat.” More significantly, it was the year of Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl” and the Beatle’s “Sergeant Pepper” album.

But for me here’s what mattered: the Cardinals were in the Series. And by 1967, both Roger Marris and I had seen the light. His playing for the Yankees and my cheering for the Yankees were long behind us. We were Cardinals (in different ways).

So back to St. Louis we went for game 3 between the Cards and the Red Sox. This time the game was at the NEW ballpark. In 1964 we were at Busch Stadium I (which had been Sportsman’s Park until the team was purchased by Anheiser-Busch in 1953). But now we were in the new Busch Stadium.

For game three, here was the Cardinals’ batting order (yes, I still have my scorecard I kept that day): Lou Brock, Curt Flood, Roger Marris, Orlando Cepeda, Tim McCarver, Mike Shannon, Julian Javier, Dal Maxvill. and Nelson Brills.

The Red Sox were led by Carl Yastrzemski, of course. It was the last time in major league baseball that a player won the Triple Crown. That year Yaz batted .326, hit 44 home runs, and drove in 121 RBIs.

But my Cardinals had Bob Gibson. Enough said. Gibson won games 1, 4, and 7. Some day the Red Sox may break the curse for trading Babe Ruth . . . but it wasn’t going to be under my (and Bob Gibson’s) watch!

For many people, 1964 was the year LBJ was elected to the office he’d taken over when President Kennedy was assassinated. For others, it was the year of the Beatles. They appeared that year on Ed Sullivan, and their early hits flooded the charts: “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” “A Hard Day’s Night,” “Please, Please Me,” and (the greatest of all) “Twist and Shout.”

But for me, it was the year of baseball. (For more on the 1964 World Series, and especially on how the Yankees’ racism led to their demise, see David Halberstam’s October 1964.)

I remember an all-school assembly, where all grades crammed into our auditorium/cafeteria at Field Elementary to watch the Cardinals and Yankees play on a black and white television. And then a couple days later I was there. Mickey Mantle, Bob Gibson, Roger Marris . . . and me.

It was a good year.

A Cubs-Red Sox World Series? Got to figure the Cubs are going to make it (despite heroic efforts by Pudge). Who’d want to be three down knowing even if you won game six you’d still have to face Kerry Wood again?

But the Red Sox? I don’t think so — for these three reasons: (1) Bill Buckner; (2) the Bambino; (3) the Yankees.

As a newspaper family, we scored tickets to World Series games whenever the Cardinals made it. Fortunately, I was a kid in a good decade for a St. Louis fan. My first World Series to attend was in 1964. I remember clearly sitting right smack next to my Dad (sorry, Mom — were you there?) watching the Yankees and Cardinals battle. There was a small plane flying overhead that said: MICKEY MANTLE AND ROGER MARRIS TOO, WE’VE COME TO PUT A HEX ON YOU.

Now for the dirty little secret: I was pulling for the Yankees. Yes, I’m embarrassed of it now. But I was just eight! I didn’t know better. My favorite players were Mickey Mantle and Willie Mays, so I had some kind of hero-worship obligation to pull for the Yankees. Fortunately, by the time the ‘67 series came, I had seen the light. More on that later . . . .

Just got in from an under-12 soccer tournament in Waco. The Burn won all three games, so I had to return alone while Chris and Diane remain for tomorrow’s games. (I have this regular Sunday gig!)

I entertained myself on the way home by reading church signs in front of all the Churches of Christ along the way. In one little town the sign at the Baptist Church on one side said, “God loves you and so to we.” The sign at the C of C on the other side said, “No adulterer will enter into the kingdom of God.”

Don’t you know visitors are knocking down the door to get into a place like that?